


Dreamt

by SuperImposed



Series: Kinkfills: Drabbles and General Fills Edition [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Dreambubbles, Gen, Kinkfill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperImposed/pseuds/SuperImposed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hoping for a fill based on this picture (http://f.cl.ly/items/432E1z1v3v1o1I220l19/they%20burned%20you%20to%20death.jpeg)! I'd love gen, pairing (any quadrant), anything, I'm not picky--I just really want to read the story of this. :)</p><p>SOLLUX?</p><p>they burned y0u tw0 death.<br/>ii 2aw them burn you tw0 death 0ver and 0ver and 0ver.</p><p>(you let him touch your face)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamt

**Author's Note:**

> http://homesmut.dreamwidth.org/8594.html?thread=15178642#cmt15178642
> 
> ( http://i.imgur.com/mWo4H.jpg - A better image link.)

You’re dreaming again.  
  
Fire paints the dirt and darkens against it, all red-brown-orange-yellow, exotic colors burnishing the tips. You scream, one voice amongst many, soon one amongst few.  
  
You remember pain, and then a brief moment of peace.  
  
You’re dreaming again.  
  
The remainders of your world stream over metal, turning the dull sheen into glorious aurora, short only of two colors.  
  
You remember pain, and know that it will soon be just one.  
  
You’re dreaming again.  
  
Silence rings in your ears, louder than any possible cry. Hundreds of dozens of lives vanish, snuffed with impunity.  
  
You remember pain, with the promise of awful life behind it.  
  
You’re dreaming again.  
  
Gold burns acid-green, reminding you of a lover that will never be yours and a death so terrible that your existence should be removed for causing it.  
  
You remember pain, the emotional so deep that the physical goes unnoticed.  
  
You’re dreaming again.  
  
You see _him_ , he for whom you would have died, he for whom you lived nightmare centuries, he whom you saw die and _could never forget,_ the moment seared more into your memory than any other instant in your insignificant life.  
  
You step forward, and call out to him.  
  
You’re dreaming again.  
  
You see him, your first failure twice over, the one that broke your heartdiamondclubspade until it was broken beyond repair, every facet staining its neighbor, the harbinger of the death of your world, bookends of regret.  
  
You step back, and say nothing.  
  
You have to be dreaming.  
  
You reach towards him, fingers tracing that pointed face. He’s younger now, perhaps due to the strangeness of the dreamworld _dream_ in which you stand. His expression is unknown to you, terror and confusion and some brittle, broken recognition.  
  
He turns away from your touch, and your not-a-protein-sack lurches.  
  
You have to be dreaming.  
  
He _touched your face_ , large fingers unholy in their gentleness, far kinder than any adult should be. There wasn’t much yellow on the wall, you never saw his body, maybe he lived through it, grew up - died like this? He’s looking at you with some kind of warped, mistaken admiration.  
  
You turn away from the touch, feeling sick when it shouldn’t be possible.  
  
Maybe you’re not dreaming.  
  
He doesn’t seem quite right, him but not _HIM_ , and maybe you’re just mad and not dreaming. He utters a name you don’t know, and the voice is his, yes, but then again it’s not.  
  
Something seems off about him, and maybe you went crazy when your _best friend, WE NEVER TALK, you don’t need that motherfucker. BEST FRIEND HE’S NOTHING TO YOU_ decided that busting in thinkpans was the new thing. You murmur his name, but he doesn’t seem to recognize it.  
  
You want to ask him so many things, you want to comfort him, you want him to comfort you, but everything’s going wrong and all you seem able to say to him, to your _savior_ , is how you watched him die, repeatedly looped in your maddyingdreaming mind.  
  
He’s talking about your death and you can’t remember how it happened but he’s wracked with suppressed pain and all you can do is listen, in shock, wondering if this is a hallucination brought on by torture.  
  
You let him touch your face.  
  
Everything snaps into place.  
  
This is not Sollux. You have no idea who the fuck he is, but his eyes are white and not appleberry blast or gapinghole black which is kind of a clue.  
  
Your expression must have changed because that _godawful litany_ finally stops, paper-blank eyes moving slightly, taking you in with more clarity.  
  
He shrinks, seems disappointed, and you realize that the poor bastard is even worse off than you. Something in him is seriously broken, so destroyed that even you probably can’t break him.  
  
Still, it’s with the gingerest of touches that you place a hand on his shoulder.  
  
He smiles.


End file.
